Cigarettes and Sunrises
by DirgeOfDecember
Summary: There is no rest for the wicked, wicked world around them, so the small things are what matter the most. They’ll take what they can get. — NickxEllis


A little author's note here: This is my pride and joy. It is. It's also my first completed fiction for this particular fandom, and is what made me (re)make an account here. Thinkin' about writing a prequel AND a sequel, but…well, we'll see how that goes. Before anyone asks, _yes_, the prequel would be the bit mentioned down there in parenthesis. My only problem is I'm terrible with writing about attacks and such. But then again, what better way to practice than with another L4D2 story?

Oh well, I absolute adore this pairing, and will certainly keep trying my hand at it. …once I get my flow back, of course.

I'm not looking for critique, and any flames will be used to light up a few Infected.

Hope you guys like this as much as I do. Leave a review, if you wish!

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**Title:** Cigarettes and Sunrises  
**Fandom:** Left 4 Dead 2  
**Pairing:** NickxEllis  
**Rating:** PG-ish/K+-ish, maybe?  
**Warnings:** Slash, tobacco use  
**Pages:** 2  
**Word Count:** 887

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**Also, I do not own Left 4 Dead2. They belong to Valve Corporation.**

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"Nick~"

Prodding. Nudging. Light shaking.

A grunt is the only response.

"C'mon, Nick, it's time to rise n'shine!"

Another grunt, one that almost sounds like a word, and a swat to the hand that now keeps trying to tickle him awake.

The boy hovering over him is losing his patience—he's been at this for the past twenty minutes.

He attempts waking him with kisses along his neck and just behind the ear, feather-light and teasing, but that only causes the sleeping man to groan and bury himself deeper into the blanket in order to escape the ministrations.

"Hmph. That's real cold, Nick. An' ta think, I found these here cigs juuuus' for you, but if ya won't get up…" A pout is ever present on his lips as well as in his voice. He gives a dramatic sigh for effect, because he knows the gambler _can_ hear him, and rustles the plastic around the box. "I guess I'mma just hafta throw them away. A shame, really, 'cause they ain't never been open, either."

A green eye peers out from beneath the cloth shield at the mention of nicotine, and Ellis laughs, smiling triumphantly as Nick grumbles something unintelligible, finally sitting up. He looks less than happy at being woken up so early, because he _really_ isn't a morning person. But if the exception is seeing those baby blues still sparkling with life, and cigarettes…

He reaches for the pack of cancer sticks—he can't help but be a little amused, because they're his favorite brand, which means the blue-eyed Southerner actually pays attention to him—and Ellis gives them up quite happily, along with a shiny new Zippo. "I figured ya might like a new lighter, since y'said your other was runnin' low. I grabbed a few, just in case. All fueled up an' everything."

He looks mighty proud of himself, and Nick finds himself smiling just the littlest bit. "Thanks, El. You did good. I mean it. I really appreciate this." He isn't sure if it's the nickname or the praise that causes the blush to streak across the twenty-three year old's nose. Perhaps it is both. It doesn't matter either way.

He can hear Rochelle chuckle softly somewhere in the background—he only has eyes for El, as he often did—and knows they must have gone out for supplies together. At least Ellis hadn't gone out alone again. (They nearly lost the mechanic after he'd gotten surprised by a Tank on one of his scavenge trips. Nick didn't like to think about that time; if they hadn't gone out looking for him when they had…)

Ellis follows behind like an obedient puppy as the conman drags himself out of the makeshift bed, both men grabbing a gun, and go to sit on the porch just outside of the safe room door.

The pack is opened and two cigarettes are withdrawn, one being passed to his companion.

Despite the fact he still tends to cough up a lung because he's not used to it, Ellis has developed a taste for such a poison, after having begged Nick for one during a sunrise much like this one. It helps with the stress of the apocalypse. But even still, he rarely smokes.

Nick brings the cigarette to his lips, lights it, and leans into Ellis, their fingertips touching just enough that they can both feel it. Lit meets unlit, and the cigarette between the younger male's lips flares to life.

It's an indirect kiss, and both know it. Both relish it. It's such a small thing to enjoy, but enjoy it they do with fervor, even though Rochelle and Coach would both tease the Devil out of them for it if they ever caught them like this.

Besides, they've shared many direct kisses before, so what harm was an indirect one here and there?

As the mechanic leans his head against Nick's shoulder, he finally takes firm hold of his hand; his blue eyes watch as their tendrils of smoke mingle and fade into the cold morning air. Nick can feel him shivering, however lightly it was, and wraps a protective arm around his waist in a futile attempt to share body warmth. He knows without looking that Ellis is smiling.

Neither talks until their cigarettes burn out. Ellis is the first one to open his mouth; he always is. "Nick? We're gonna make it outta here, right?"

Even though he doesn't know the future, Nick was a gambler at heart. He had his life, and the life of Ellis, and their teammates, at stake. There was no way he was losing _this_ bet against Fate or God or whomever it was throwing Armageddon their way. "Yeah, baby boy. We're gonna make it. All four of us."

There is no rest for the wicked, wicked world around them, so the small things are what matter the most. They'll take what they can get.

Even though they can hear the cries of the Infected within miles all around them, they're perfectly content. They have their guns. They've got Rochelle, and Coach. They have a safe house behind them, and one somewhere ahead. They have their cigarettes, their hopes, and their determination to keep on walking and make it out alive.

And most importantly, they have each other.


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